Spatially Challenged
by luvsanime02
Summary: Natasha is absolutely never going to admit that she might currently be a little bit lost in a corn maze.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Marvel comics or characters or movies, and am making no money off of this fic.

**AN:** Written for the October 24th Spooktober prompt: lost in a corn maze.

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**Spatially Challenged **by luvsanime02

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Natasha refuses to admit that she's lost.

She can't quite seem to figure out which way to go, though. Which is something of an issue, considering she's supposed to be running for her life here. Or at least until she finds some strategic ground to cover her before she starts returning fire.

Her only consolation is that the men chasing her appear to be just as lost as she is, if their distant shouts are anything to go by. And technically, Natasha's not getting shot at anymore because nobody can find her, so really, her day could be going much worse.

She just can't believe how… tall corn can grow. Natasha's seen some corn mazes in that horror movie Clint forced her to sit through, but she'd thought that was Hollywood movie magic. In reality, corn is even worse.

The smell is everywhere. Natasha hadn't ever noticed a particularly heavy smell to corn before, though maybe it's just fresh, uncooked corn that smells like this, but still. It's in her sinuses, smothering her breathing. She'll be dreaming about this later, Natasha knows with certainty. Not being chased, but the overwhelming smell of the corn stalks all around her.

Briefly, Natasha considers climbing one of the stalks to try and get some kind of vantage point. Her tight grip makes the stalk bend, though, so she gives up on that idea. It's tougher than it looks, but clearly not meant to hold up even her slight weight.

Fine, then. Natasha is a professional spy - she'll figure some way out of this corn maze. And then she is never eating corn again for the rest of her life. Natasha can't believe that this corn field is even real. When she's walking between two rows where the stalks are bending towards each other, she can't even see the sky. How is this stuff real?

There's a chirping noise nearby, and Natasha pulls out a gun. She'd holstered it earlier, once she'd realized how… spatially challenged she currently is. And how distant the shouts behind her had gotten.

Natasha is severely regretting that she thought it was a good idea to zigzag through the maze of corn in order to lose her pursuers. At least it had worked. She just hadn't meant to lose herself as well.

Cautiously, Natasha returns the chirping in a specific pattern, hoping like hell that the noise really was her backup and not the enemy. She's prepared to take them out, of course, but she won't be able to see someone coming until they're practically on top of her.

Seriously, how is this much corn even real? Is she dreaming?

Clint appears suddenly, pushing his way through a row of corn stalks to stand in front of her, and Natasha just barely manages not to shoot him. It's possible that she's a little more tightly strung than usual.

"Morning," he calls out, faux cheerfully. Natasha gives him a look that he promptly ignores. "Cutting down the crops, are we?"

"Isn't that your thing?" she shoots back automatically, despite the fact that she knows Clint's never farmed in his life, even when he lived in a farmhouse.

"And ruin all your fun?" Clint returns. "Everyone else is searching for you over at the barn, by the way. Smart idea to stick to the corn."

Natasha is absolutely not telling Clint that her 'sticking to the corn' was not strategy so much as the fact that she had no idea there was a barn anywhere in their local vicinity, and wouldn't have known how to get to it even if she did have that intel.

"Thanks," she replies easily. "Ready to get out of here?" She sure as hell is.

Clint shrugs easily. "Sure, let's go."

There's a pause where Clint is clearly waiting for Natasha to move first while she's hoping that he will, and so neither of them goes anywhere. It makes sense, really. Natasha usually takes point, because Clint's weapon has a longer range. Not today, though.

Clint's eyebrows slowly climb up his forehead. Natasha refuses to acknowledge the look.

"Okay," Clint says after a few more moments of silence, "is there any reason why we're still standing here?"

Natasha shrugs. "Not really," she says. Clint stares some more. Natasha still refuses to acknowledge his staring.

Eventually, Clint turns on his heel and starts walking away, and Natasha follows him. "I don't have any idea what the problem is," he admits casually in a way that Natasha never could, "but I want to get out of this corn field, so we're leaving now. The smell is starting to get to me."

"Alright," Natasha says agreeably, perfectly content to follow Clint and not at all bitter that he seems to be able to navigate his way through this maze with no problems whatsoever. She consoles herself with the knowledge that Clint wasn't trying to lose his pursuers when he entered, and so he could pay more attention to his surroundings. Also, he's taller. Clearly, Clint has an unfair advantage over Natasha there.

Natasha is never watching that damn corn movie with Clint ever again after this.


End file.
